Returning the Favour
by SchmEthan
Summary: The Doctor has a while before the radiation kills his body. As he thinks about his recent life, he struggles between staying and going as he realises why he was who he was. Not because of himself, but because of everyone else...


The Time Lord sighed as he slumped against the jumpseat of his TARDIS. He couldn't do much else, given the state he was in. Having five hundred ralls of radiation coursing through two hearts and ripping tissue to shreds wasn't an ideal. But it happened. It had happened, should happen, and always will happen. The Doctor knew that, and for the most part, he accepted it.

He had no idea that the radiation would linger in his system for so long; perhaps it was his previous half-regeneration that sustained him. Perhaps it was the immense exposure to such radiation that prevented his body from decaying on the spot, in some twisted, paradoxical way.

_How long must I live like this? _he thought. Although, did he really want it to end? This was undoubtedly one of his favourite regenerations, his favourite lives. He had loved. And lost. He had fought. And quelled. He almost regenerated, and he nearly broke down because of it. He was of two minds, just as he was two hearts.

A part of him wanted the pain to end. A pain so great, that nobody who endured anything similar could not possibly have survived. But the Doctor wasn't a nobody. He withstood it. And how it killed him. He knew he was dying. Slowly and painfully. The worst way to go. It wasn't just the physical pain that tortured him, though. The emotional pain, the nostalgic pain of each and every memory and stain on his body. He wanted to be free of this body, this form, and everything that came with it. He machined Martha into a weapon. He gave Jack the blessing of eternal life. The curse of eternal life. He made Donna a better person, and he took it all away. He made the Master cry, and then he killed him. His brethren, the Time Lords whose company he always longed for were plunged back into hell by his own hand.

Rose. He loved her. She loved him. They were complete. And he destroyed it. A human counterpart to himself didn't even come close to compensating, but it was the best he could do.

_Rose..._

And that was where his other mind, his other heart, protested with what little strength it had left. He loved this body. He loved himself, without the slightest trace of egotism. Not three years before, he had no idea what he was, nor who he was. And as he found out, he grew to like it. He grew to cherish himself and appreciate every moment as his own new man. With Rose beside him to channel his newfound love, he was on top of the world.

But...

After she was snatched away from him, he was stained. His soul was stained. After that, reason, logic and everything else kept losing itself with time. He crushed, shaped and fashioned Martha into something she never should have been. He nearly let Donna die on so many occasions. Eventually, he couldn't cope. He promised himself that he would have nothing more to do with another human 'companion' on his TARDIS. Of course, he always found a partner to tag along with, such was his nature. They needed a solution, he needed a plan B. They were always there for him, and in so many circumstances, he could never solve the problem without somebody with him. And that was what he missed most of all.

This body was friendly, happy, adventurous, sociable, funny, smart and (in all eyes but his own) handsome. His previous regeneration was a battle-scarred insomniac who was in desperate need of help. And Rose was there.

They say that a Time Lord's life just prior to his regeneration would determine his next form. Before his current regeneration, he was at ease. He was content. All his worried had been almost eradicated by Rose's fair hand. And that reflected in his regeneration. His darkness and sorrow lifted to reveal a bright, happy, shining new Doctor. And maybe that was it.

This bright, happy, shining new Doctor made so many new friends. All of whom had been there for him when he needed them. That much was apparent from the battle against Davros and the Daleks. But what had he done? He had destroyed their lives in any and every imaginable way. Yes, he had saved them- and indeed the Earth- so many times, but that was nothing compared to what they gave to him.

Strength. Courage. Happiness. Hope. Initiative, encouragement, reason and ultimatum. Absolution, choice, life and love. Love. That was the thing he cherished most. Everybody loved him, everybody looked up to him. Everybody gave him power aboard the Valiant as he stopped the Master in his tracks.

_But I haven't given them enough back. _Yes, he may have saved the world, but that wasn't it. That wasn't the repayment he needed to give. It was love.

He loved Rose, yes, but the only kind of love suitable was friendship. Friendship and happiness and caring. Nothing more, nothing less. That was what he needed to do. Return each and every favour to each and every person.

He managed to push himself up from the jumpseat as he stumbled towards the console. He was already preparing a list of people and places and gifts to attempt to repay at least some of his colossal debt before he passed. He had absolutely no indication of how long he had, so his list was slim as he kept to a few of his closest friends and allies, keeping the best 'til last. _Hang in there, Rose, I'm coming for you..._

He smiled. A genuine smile for the first time in a long while for the final journey, the final act of his body. That was all it was. Nothing more than a body. In a short time, it would no longer exist, having regenerated into something and someone completely different. And he was determined to make the most of it. If it had any positive effect on his next regeneration, he welcomed it.

Still smiling, he flicked some switches, jammed some buttons, pumped some pumps and struggled for balance as he prepared for his final adventure.

"First stop, Geoffrey Noble..."

* * *

SchmEthan here:

After watching EoT again, I just felt a little hole needed filling in the Doctor's world. An explanation, a reason, a description of what he was going through. And it turned into this.

TBH I'd LOVE to know what y'all think about it. Cause it's all emotional rather than active, and I's been wondering...

ANYWHO, thankies for reading! = D

SchmEthan.


End file.
